Cluttered Desk
by AndyDrea
Summary: "Do I look like a fucking people person?"Gwendolyn Harper has never liked society. Stupid, ignorant and boring society. But when she mets a certain consulting detective that is everything society isn't, she decides to run with the wolves. Sherlock/Oc
1. Prologue

.:享受:.

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_"If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?"_

_~Albert Einstein_

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People are afraid to be alone.

They are afraid to end up being alone, to be left alone or to have to do any type of things alone. Apparently it's the human thing to want company.

That's not my case though.

Ah, the beauty of solitude, underestimated by many ignorant people that can't shut their gob with unpleasant babbling about many unimportant occurrences in their life. Solitude is one of the most appreciated things in my life, other than books and my laptop of course.

The only company I need is me and my mind.

Many people would consider it an unadventurous life in which I completely disagree. Seeing as my job can be in many ways 'adventurous'. But I honestly could care less what people think, most beings on this planet are complete and utter stupid. And if they aren't stupid they were boring. That's why I like being alone.

Yes, I guess you could say I am a loner, but I feel more lonely in a crowed room with boring and stupid people than I feel on my own.

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.:谢谢:.


	2. Days Gone To Hell

**Hello! And welcome to my first ****_Sherlock _****story on this site. I've had this idea rattling inside my head for some time and I just had to write it! Nw this is my first Fanfic, so creative criticism is welcomed.**

**So onwards to the story!**

**DISCLAIMER: Sherlock(The character and the show) belongs to BBC**

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.:наслаждаться:.

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_"Any fool can know. The point is to understand."_

_Albert Einstein_

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Fifteen minutes with thirty eight seconds. That's the amount of time I have been waiting for in this bloody line to get some hot chocolate. Doesn't help that the only people surrounding me are businessmen talking in their phones, with the occasional intern running around and getting coffee for their bosses. So noisy. So annoying. So boring.

"What can I get for you ma'am?" About time.

The blonde cashier smiled brightly at me, shifting her attention on me after finishing with the secretary with too much jewelry on. Her composure was upright and confident, obviously a new employee, a college student considering the purple under her eyes and the callous in her left hand on the middle finger. Besides the cash register laid a biology book which she was eyeing every now and then, she has a test. Tsk, tsk, shouldn't have been meddling at that party last night.

"White Chocolate Mocha, and while you are at it, you misspelled Cappuccino in the sign at the front and its putting me off, correct it." I replied tightly while looking at my phone and going through my email. The cashiers smile fell from her face she just stood there befuddled. An exasperated sigh escaped my lips, when in twenty seconds she was still standing there, gaping like a fish out of water. "Chop, chop; Unlike you I have important things to do" at this she nodded and scurried off to make my beverage.

I went through my pockets and took out the exact change the mocha costed. In the corner of my eye I noticed the secretary eyeing me in disbelieve, bloody people always sticking their nose in other people's business. "If I throw a stick would you leave?" I snapped at her, she gaped and rapidly made her way out of the shop while the man behind me shifted his weight on his left leg nervously,I eyed him warily and turned back at the cashier who was standing there stunned at my rudeness. She seemed to snapped out of her trance and rapidly put on a big fake smile.

"Here's your order ma'am, that'll be-" I slapped the money on the countertop and headed to a secluded table ignoring the seething glare the ignorant college student sent me after I had turned away.I passed various tables with a variety of people chatting about until I reached the perfect table. It a dainty table shoved unto a corner with a big window which shows cars driving and people walking by. It's absolutely perfect.I sat down and took out my laptop turning it on. I sipped on my mocha and quickly typed in my password.

Finally some peace.

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'_Leading up to the rebellion, there were significant economic problems, particularly acute in the period from 1827 to 1832; the years were marked by harvest failures, food shortages, and increases in the cost of living, creating discontent throughout the , the spring of 1832 saw Paris ravaged by a Europe-wide outbreak-'_

I quickly typed the events of the June Rebellion for the new World History book that needed correction due to the mistakes of various authors that don't check their writing. Some people, right?

I stopped for a minute taking in my almost finished book. It was satisfying to know that people who actually care about history would be getting the right information. Because I would obviously get all the facts right, unlike other people.I was about to continue with my work until something caught my peripheral vision.

Two men, one shorter than the other, ran out of a building as fast as their legs could carry them. The shorter one calling before the other one obviously in distressed while the other man ignored him completely and kept running taking long strides. I blinked, that was not something you see everyday. My eyes unglued themselves from the window and my fingers hit the keyword ready to get back to work.

"Excuse me miss?" A voice rang above me, I unglued my eyes from my laptop to see one of the workers at the coffee shop, standing there with a broom.

"Yes?"

"The shop is about to close, so uh-" I quickly sprang from my seat,startling the bloke. How much time did I stay here? I shook my head. Doesn't matter, better get out of here before it gets too late. As fast as I could, I packed my bags and headed to the London streets.

The air was chilly which made me tight my cream colored coat and red scarf. I hastily tried to hail a cab, but they seem to ignore me. Fine I'll just walk then.

The walk from the Coffee Shop was a peaceful one. It was when I got to my flat that everything went downhill.

Police cars littered around the whole building, coppers going in and out. What in the world? Why is the Yard doing here?

My feet stopped behind the yellow tape. What do I do know? I looked around until I saw my landlord, a relieved sigh escaped my lips. At least he's okay.

"Mr. Lerwick!" I yelled for him while waving my arms trying to get his attention.

"Gwendolyn, there you are! " The seventy-four year old veteran from the war turned towards me,a horrified expression on his face.

"Mr. Lerwick, what the bloody hell has happened here?" My voice went a pitch higher as I stared at whatever was going around here.

"Gwen, the police are looking for you-" My head jerked back. What?

"What-"

"Miss Harper-"A voice sounded on my right. A man with snowy hair and smartly dressed came up to us a badge in hand.

"DI Lestrade I-"

"What the hell happened?" I sharply cut him. Whatever happened here must have scared Mr. Lerwick seeing as he looked ready to faint. And if something scared Mr. Lerwick, it means shit hit the fan.

"There's a body Gwen-" My muscles tensed, my eyes widened. A body..? The frightened look on his face remained as he nervously wrung his hands.

"The body was found in your flat Miss-" My mouth opened, closed and opened several times before the intensity of the situation hit me. There's a body, a _dead_ body, in my flat. My face went slack, my body stopped moving and color drained from my face as I stare wide-eyed at the DI.

After a minute of me trying to comprehend what I have just been informed of, I sighed and nodded towards them. As I pinched the bridge of my nose I asked: "How did that happen?"

"We aren't sure," I scoffed, of course they weren't"But we are getting to that. In the mean time..we will have to arrest you"

Well this day went to hell.

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.: спасибо:.

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**Please Review and tell me what you, should I continue, should I not?**


	3. Murder Of The North

**Yay! Second chapter! Sorry if they are any mistakes, English isn't my first language and I'm doing this in an iPad so it's rather difficult. **

**Thank you for those who added this to their alert stories **

**I'll stop babbling now**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own ****_Sherlock_**** and its respective characters I only own My OC Gwen**

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.:आनंद:.

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_"The secret to humor is surprise." _

_~Aristotle_

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I'm a very blunt person. I like to say what's in my mind, because if I don't, one way or another its gonna escape me. So when DI Lestrade went all the way to explain to me that he was arresting me, well it didn't go very well.

"And why, prey tell, would you do that?" I asked clenching my teeth in complete anger and irritation. I tried to keep the seething insults and blows I had in my head, hoping they wouldn't escape any time soon. Unfortunately it didn't seem like it was going my way any time soon.

"The body was found in your apartment, we have every right to be suspicious-"I stopped him right there. With one hand highly raised and the other pinching the bridge of my nose. I had heard enough. They thought I, of all people, murdered whoever was in my apartment. Speaking of which, who the hell decided to get murdered in my apartment?!

"I'm sorry Inspector, but there seems to be a tiny little problem with your accusation.."

"And what would that be?" He asked a thin line forming on his lips.

"Oh well, maybe that I haven't been here the whole bloody day?" I said sarcastically, hoping that maybe he would finally open his eyes. The inspector frowned at this, he realized that it didn't add up. But apparently he ignored this realization.

"I apologize but we have to through protocol,-"

"Oh for God's sake! Are you _blind_?How the bloody hell would I kill a man without being in same place?!" I yelled, my patience finally growing thin at the situation. It grew some attention from other coppers, but I could care less. I was about to get arrested for a murder that I didn't commit! I don't even know who got killed! The DI opened his mouth about to say something when another voice interrupted.

"She's not lying, and like always you are wrong.." A bored voice head snapped behind me where a tall man with curly black hair stood, his icy blue eyes were glued to the phone in his hand and holy crap look at his cheekbones! Wait did he say the DI was wrong?

"Evening Lestrade.." My gaze shifted to the right of Mr. Cheekbones where a short man(taller than me though)with sandy blonde hair stood.

"John.." The DI nodded towards the sandy blonde haired man or 'John'. "What do you mean I'm wrong?"he turned towards Mr. Cheekbones who gave an exasperated sigh sounding irritated. "Just look at her boots," he replied.

"Her _boots_?"

"My _boots_?" I looked down to them,there wasn't anything extravagant about them,it was the cheapest pair I could afford at the time and they are pretty comfortable. Though they are pretty muddy- I gasped, why didn't I think about that before?! "My boots! That's right, look at them!" I exclaimed, hastily taking out my left boot and handing it to the Inspector. He looked between me, the boot and Mr. Cheekbones as if the three of us had some sort of inside joke. Though in this case it was a train of thought.

"I'm sorry, her boots?-your _boots_?" The DI asked, a puzzled look on his face as he shifted his gaze from Mr. Cheekbones to me.

"Look at it! There's fresh mud on it!" Idiot.

"See? Even a _dull_ historian can deduce something as simple as that"

"Oi! Watch your mouth!"

"Fresh mud, means Miss Harper was out when it was raining. What time was it raining? From 9:30 am to 7:56 pm, she left the flat at 9:45"He stated without batting an eyelash and a bored expression on his face. Damn, Mr. Cheekbones has some serious observing skills.

"She could've ran out and come back to the scene-"

"You're kidding right? Believe me, if I started murdering people… there'd be _none_ of you left.." I stated,letting the bitterness and irritation in my voice. The three men turned to me with an unamused look.

"The man inside is at the least three times her weight Lestrade, there's no chance she could've flipped him over a table and stabbed him over ten times-" John said while I made a sound that I was definitely not human.

"We'll do you have at least a faint idea of who could've done it?" Isn't he suppose to know?

"A man in his mid forties, left handed, has a slight limp on his right leg, marriage and financial problems-"

"Financial problems?" Asked Lestrade a bewildered look on his face. The curly haired detective looked mildly bored as though this was child's play and his companion listen intently. Financial problems, doesn't really seem relevant to the whole murder...a lot of people have financial problems, my downstairs neighbor had financial problems. So why was he adding this piece of information? Did the murderer leave some type of card? No, they would've trailed after him already if that was the case. I looked back at my door flat, it seemed ordinary. Nothing special. So why the hell did someone get murdered there? More importantly why was there someone in my apartment?

My bitter thoughts stopped when something caught my eye. The door knob was severely scratched. That wasn't like that when I left. It looked like as if someone tried to...break...in... Oh my God...

"Did..did I get _robbed_?!" The curly haired detective turned towards me so fast I was surprised he didn't break his neck.

"How did you know that?" Asked Lestrade surprised I figured it out somehow. I would've turned if it weren't for the other detective and his penetrating gaze. He looked at me as though I had grown another head. I blinked once, twice and a third time for good measure and slowly turned my head to the inspector.

"He said Financial problems..and the door knob..." I tried to explain but my words faltered. I got _robbed_.Did they take anything of importance? More importantly did they take my books? I have to find out. I have important documents in those books. My life is in those books. My life _is_ those books.

The next thing I did was rather bold, but it didn't matter. Bolting to my apartment couldn't be that bad right?

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.:धन्यवाद:.

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** And that's a wrap! For the next chapter I would like some people to review if you could, I can't get motivated without at least some reviews so if yo could...Pleaaaaaaaaseeeeee? I'll give you a virtual cookie!**


	4. Let's Kill Tonight

**Hey Guys! Sorry for the long wait. I had school stuff that needed to bet ended and every time the muses came I was to busy to write it down. And when I ****_actually_**** had time, the muses left! Ugh those little weasels. **

**And this is where the punch line goes through, when I actually finished this chapter, the internet disappeared. Like whoosh! Gone!**

**Can you believe my luck?**

**Ill end my rant there, Onwards to the Story!**

**DISCLAIMER: ****_Sherlock_**** both the show and the character do not belong to me, if they did well... I'd do a lot of things to Mr. Cumberbatch *wink *wink**

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.:genießen:.

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_"The unhappiest people in this world, are those who care the most about what other people think."  
~C. JoyBell C._

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Maybe it wasn't the best of ideas. But can you really blame me? After all the shit that just happened and was practically barrelled at me, who wouldn't want to run and scream profanities at the air?

And if anything,I needed to know if they had touched anything (both The Yard and the mystery robbers). After bolting unexpectedly and getting a surprised yelp from John, I was dodging police officers almost like a pro. Thank you small stature .

Before I knew it I was right in front of the door leading up to my flat on the second floor. I was surprised that the door was even more severely scratched than I had seen. But considering I was pretty far away from said door I didn't pent up on it too much.

Okay next step was getting through the stairs up to my flat, no biggie right? That was of course until after I opened the door and realised the place was also field with officers littering through the room. Well, dammit.

No more than a second later the whole Scotland Yard were trying to and I quote '_Haul her arse out of here!_'. After hearing this sentence (that came from non other than Lestrade himself) I sprinted through the room, up the stairs (which I was nearly caught by a dark skinned woman, with a very colourful vocabulary) and finally to my flat.

Without a second of hesitation I abruptly opened the front door, scaring a forensic. I was about to venture in more deeply when of course the corpse came into view. For a moment I stood there pretty horrified. Until a wave of bitterness hit me right in the chest.

Who was this asshole, and why did he get murdered in my flat?! It's impossibly and utterly moronic to get murdered in someone else's apartment! How does this even happen? I mean seriously!

"Miss Harper!-"

"_Din fula fan!_" I cursed at the top of my lungs. A sudden feeling of reviving this accursed man and murdering him all over again rattled through my brain.

"Oh you've done it now lad.." Exclaimed Mr. Lerwick with a shake of his head. And yes he had done, I was very pissed. And pissed meant very angry and colourful Swedish vocabulary.

I gritted my teeth together as I stared down at the corpse. He looked almost as if sleeping, of course if it wasn't for the bullet wound right in the middle of his forehead. What alighted my irritation was that he looked like those mediocre robbers on the telly. He was full of muscles, and wearing black made his whole structure even more obvious. His military cut was matted with some blood and on his right hand he held a gun. The fire in my chest only brightened by only observing this moronic piece of shite. No synonym for furious could describe the feeling in my chest.

A severely angry forensic came towards us, while Lestrade tried to pry my look away from the body."Who the bloody hell is she?! Lestrade get her out, she could contaminate the whole scene-"

And at that moment I realised that maybe my punches weren't all that bad.

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"This is complete rubbish.." I grumbled under my breath. sent me an amused look while glancing at the dark skinned woman who almost caught up to me, which at this point was my guard dog.

"You did punch an officer of the Yard, missy.." Said man answered the unasked question. I glared at the landlord under my eyelashes. "Whatever" was my only response while he just chuckled. The dark skinned woman sent what would have been a chilly glare, if she was actually intimidating, which she isn't.

"I remembered I once sent a rather nasty blow to a copper once, when I was a lad.." Recalled the old veteran with a look filled with nostalgia. "Oh yes those were the times..." He said with an almost dreamy sigh and a grin my way. This ultimately made my own grin come back to my face. This is one of the reasons I like Mr. Lerwick, he's not exactly a joyous old man. No sir, he's your definition of a grumpy old man. But that's in the surface. Deep down he's just an old crazy bat with a rebellious spirit that put rebelling teenagers to shame.

"So any chance you know how to get out of these?" I whispered, wiggling my left arm which was cuffed to a street lamp (a very dirty one too). He only chuckled and shook his head. My shoulders slumped and I leaned on the accursed thing. I directed my gaze to the inspector standing besides the ambulance which the forensic was being taken care of. I almost smirked at my handiwork.

"I heard you punched Anderson on the face" A new voice filled my ears, turning around I found the man who had accompanied Mr. Cheekbones. I nodded at his statement, letting the smirk from before come back to me.

"The little weasel had it coming.." I simply responded while John chuckled.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do that.." The sandy blonde admitted with a nudge towards the ambulance.

"Well you should of taken the chance..he's just a _Dumfan_, I doubt he'll retaliate.." John shot me a confuse look. Before I could respond somebody whack me upside the head with an almost inaudible yelped I turned around to see Mr. Lerwick with yesterday's paper. "No bad mouthing in Swedish, if your gonna bad mouth someone do it so they can understand you" He exclaimed in an almost admonishing demeanour. I stood my ground and snarled at my landlord.

"I do what I want old man!"

"No talking back to your elders!" **_Whack_**.

"Why you-" **_Whack_**.

"_Sluta_!-" **_Whack_**.

"Stahp!" I yelled startled by the old mans strength, I could hear it in my own voice how my accent was leaking through. At that moment the landlord stopped and with a grin he stepped back and walked away. That little!-

A laugh left the man besides me, I pointedly glared at him. When he finally stopped with a grin on he asked: "So is that your grandfather?" I scoffed at this. Other than the way we treat each other there would be no way he would be my grandfather. His eyes are a rich brown, while mine are a dark blue. His hair, although white because of age, have some brown and mine is just black and curly.

"No he's my landlord, a very annoying one at that.." I grumbled and John gave me a nod. A silence settled between us, and although it wasn't awkward at all I had the sneaking suspicion he felt that it was. It was pretty obvious considering he would try not to look at me but still glance occasionally. At the fifth glance I got annoyed and decided that there was no way out small talk with him, so I decided to get it over with.

Now the question was, what type of small talk would I want to start? As you've probably guessed I'm not exactly the social type. Nope, not at all.

In the corner of my eye I noticed the slight tan on his hand. Well isn't that strange. This is London, not exactly known for the great sun. Had he been on vacation maybe?

No, that can't be right. If he went on vacation to a sunny place he wouldn't get tanned on the wrist like that. Who would wear long shirts on vacations, which implied a lot of sun? No mad man would even think of that.

I took a side glance towards the man besides. His back was straight and although a wary of my presence, he still looked rather calm. But his posture looks very straight..just like..

!

Oh..._oh_...

"So how's Afghanistan at this time of year?" An sharp inhale of breath "Or was it Iraq? I really don't keep up with war nowadays. Everybody wants to blow up someone else anyways," A slow exhale. I took this moment to raise my gaze to his face. He looked slightly alarmed and nervous. But with grace only a soldier can have, he calmed himself and finally had the courage to stare at me. When our eyes met I noticed a glint of recognition. As if this had happened before.

"How did you know..?" He asked slowly, perhaps scared I'd run away like a startled antelope. I just shrugged my shoulders a bit taken back with his way to handle the situation I just put on him.

"I just noticed actually...your tan, your haircut though it grew and that stance...just like a brother of mine.." I answered with another shrug. My oldest brother Felix (named after my father) went to the army , when he came back he had that stance about him, always alert. It was slightly unnerving since Felix Jr. has always been the idiot older brother.

John opened his mouth to say something until he was abruptly interrupted.

"John, something's amiss.." The bored tone from earlier came back. Although this time he seemed not so bored. John quickly tried to ask his comrade but was cut short when the man just started talking.

"Although killed with a bullet,poisoning entered his system. Now why would you poison your best friend and then kill him with a bullet through the forehead? John?"

"Maybe the poison was taking to long?-"

"No, again"

"An accident, could've-"

"Oh please John, this is a crime scene, there are no accidents" His clipped tone announced while he rolled his icy blue eyes. I looked between the duo and decided to put my ten cents too.

"Did he want him to suffer?" I asked absent minded. His head snapped to me, if it had been any faster if could've sworn his head would've fallen off. He stared at me with an intensive look that would've made any one else cower. But considering that my stubborn nature would never be quelled I stood my ground.

"Elaborate" His clipped tone demanded.

"Well the body wasn't exactly all battered up... And if what you just said is true, that he is/was the best friend who murdered him well something must've happened..to...the...relationship...and...could you...cut that out..?" My voice had started out strong and calculating. But it didn't end that way. Nope. Not at all. Mr. Cheekbones decided to have a one sided staring contest with me. His stare I could've brushed off if it wasn't so intense. In a way I felt as if he was looking through my soul.

At that instant he bounced back and changed his gaze towards his companion.

"Exactly, "

"But why would he want his best friend, almost a brother suffer?" Asked the military man, confusion lacing his features. At this the other man almost smiled. "Now you're asking the right questions. Well while Anderson was too busy getting punched-" A proud smirk crossed my face "-I was able to get closer to Daniel Webber's body-" Ah, so that was the gits name "-That's when I noticed the shampoo"

John stared owlishly at his friend,ever confused. "You see John, Webber's hair follicles give a scent of pears, while Miss Harper's gives the impression of coconuts. Now why is this relevant? The flat is covered with a scent of pears. Why would it smell so strongly of pears when Miss Harpers scent is fully induced of the tropical fruit? Meaning, not only where both males smelling like pears, but also that they were both inside the flat for a very long time" I stared in awe at the man and silently praised him for his observation.

"And it doesn't end there, my dear Watson! Oh no, it was obvious the murderer was married, with the ring puncture on Webber's right cheek. But why did both men smell similar? Unless both are in a homosexual relationship with each other, which I highly doubt considering the very large pornography stash in Webbers phone, I'd say the man himself was in an affair with his best friends wife. And unfortunately for him he was caught" The detective finished with a smirk to his army friend. Said man blinked a few times and a grin formed on his face. I on the other hand stared at the detective in complete awe.

"_Jävla fan_.." I muttered under my breath, making both men turn to me. I was completely flabbergasted at the curly haired mans observation skills. They were sincerely killer.

"That was just...damn...fricking amazing.." I said stating my impression of the man. They both wore confused and slightly surprised expressions. "What?" John just shook his head, a grin suddenly appearing on his features."It's just Sherlock doesn't get that impression on his deduction skills much.." So that was his name. I cocked my head slightly, why wouldn't he? What he just did was pretty brilliant.

"Do they clap or something? Cause I would but I'm kind of cuffed to a lamp post.." John only shook his head in amusement. Now I was really confused.

"Most of the time the expressions would come off as slightly miffed, at times slightly horrified" Sherlock expressed with an unimpressed sniff. I scoffed lightly.

"Well then society must be stupider than I thought.." At this both men grinned slightly at me. And I felt as though I just gained two acquaintances.

Now to get out of these cuffs.

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.:Danke:.

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_**Translations**_

_**Din Fula Fan - You ugly devil**_

_**Dumfan - Dumfuck**_

_**Sluta - Stop**_

_**Jävla Fan - Fucking Hell**_

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**And that's a wrap! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I really like how the whole thing went about!**

** Before I go, I would like to get your guys opinion! **

**I was heavily thinking which actress might fit Gwen's profile, so I want you guys to comment!**

**Well I'll leave it at that!**

**Bye Bye :)**


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